You were a new road to him:

A new little shortcut

From the original route

Fresh tar, barely sun-dried.

Black, and bold, just how he likes ‘em.

And he hugged your curves

With the greatest of ease;

Ignored your speed limits

And ran with the breeze.

Crossed the lines more than once,

Yet still you are relieved

By the cool feel of his ride

As he strides over your smooth terrain.

He leaves skid marks

On your once-flawless frame

And then signals “goodbye,”

Turning left, leaving you in the cold

While he searches for a new useful road:

A new shortcut

to get him out of the traffic.

Now you remain abused,

once a black and beautiful path

Whose desire is to simply

Be the long way home.

And now you are pale and gray,

Waiting for the day

When your cement will be repaved

And ready to be found

As just another shortcut.